She comes to you at the witches' hour,
singing lullabies of her triumph and power.
She wears a dress of the blackest black,
a long hooded coat upon her back.
Dark red velvet bag hangs on her hand,
in this she keeps the souls that she commands.
Legend has it that you can't look at her face,
or else your life will be erased.
She spares no one she comes across,
man, woman or child, your soul is lost.
if you awake in the morn, with a purple rose in hand,
it could mean your soul she now demands.
So don't forget to pray before you sleep tonight,
our else The Dark Lady may be at you side.
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Lady
PoetryHello readers like I said in my bio I prefer poetry. This piece was written many years ago, so long ago that I can not remember how far back. There is a second part to this poem which is a bit longer. When I first started writing I was very into lov...
